


A Very Merry Blah Blah Blah

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2011-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-16 04:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed that, since their return to Atlantis, the city was going to Celebrate The Time Of Year. For whatever holiday was equivalent to Christmas and acceptable to personnel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Merry Blah Blah Blah

The folks from the southern hemisphere had no problem with a summer Christmas.

John did.

Elizabeth maintained her decision to abide by the Earth calendar when he complained to her. "I think six billion people trumps two hundred, John - even if they are a galaxy away. And it's easier for the expedition to celebrate it at the same time as their family and friends." Well, sure it was easier - but it was throwing his mental image of Christmas out.

He voiced his discomfort with Rodney. "Well, you could always just find a planet in the middle of its winter cycle and have your 'White Christmas' there," Rodney told him, absently poking at some device in his lab.

Ronon listened when John expounded on the joys of a white Christmas but only noted, "I prefer this weather." Given that Ronon was quite comfortable in a singlet that showed off his shoulders and arms during that conversation, John sourly reflected that he shouldn't have been surprised.

Even Teyla wasn't helpful as he eyed the decorations going up in the mess hall with grumpy humbuggery. "If the celebration is of family and relationships, John, does the time of year matter so much?" In John's mind, it was a question of Right And Proper.

And it just wasn't Right Or Proper to have Christmas in summer.

The time of year had passed in previous years with barely a mention - just a note on the calendar and a change in menu.

It seemed that, since their return to Atlantis, the city was going to Celebrate The Time Of Year. For whatever holiday was equivalent to Christmas and acceptable to personnel. In John’s opinion, it was just easiest to call it ‘Christmas’ and not make a fuss about it.

So, Christmas. In summer. Complete with eighty-degree heat and a lunchtime barbecue organised by the Australians, featuring Pegasus versions of Earth food.

John's discontent with the season didn't stop him from organising gifts for his personnel. Bonuses mostly, in whatever form he could arrange them, whether Athosian trading credits, metal bullion, or knick-knacks from Earth that were becoming marketplace valuables in Pegasus - sometimes for the oddest reasons.

There were other signs that people were getting into the Christmas spirit, from decorations, to colourful papers and whispered conversations in the mess hall as people tried to work out gifts for personnel.

And then there was John’s team.

Two aliens, one humbug, and a seasonally displaced colonel made the whole ‘celebration of Christmas spirit’ a little trickier. Lucky for him, Teyla was tolerant, Ronon was easily enthused, and Rodney could be prodded until he gave in.

John suspected that Elizabeth and Carson provided a little pressure in Rodney’s case, anyway. That didn’t stop the other man from complaining.

“I can’t believe you made us do this,” Rodney whined as they seated themselves on the mats in the workout room they were using for this gift exchange. John had insisted that his team have an official present-opening time before the lunchtime barbecue for all off-duty staff. “The hours that I spent finding all this - to say nothing of the waste in wrapping and stuff - could have been used on my work!”

“Generosity is good for the soul,” said John as he crossed his legs. It was a point of amusement to both him and Ronon that they could sit cross-legged, while Rodney couldn’t. Flexibility was a wonderful thing.

“That’s _confession_ is good for the soul,” came the retort. But Rodney had one of the cloth carry-bags that were popular in the city, so John presumed he’d gotten into the act.

 _Attaboy, Rodney._

John grinned. In spite of his misgivings about the weather for the season - it would have seemed so much more like Christmas to have it in the middle of winter - he was content. Teyla had been right: the season didn’t matter, the celebration itself did.

“Ladies first,” he said, pulling out his present to her - two reasonably-sized, brightly-wrapped boxes for which he’d shelled out quite a lot of money. Not that he had that much opportunity to spend his paycheck in Atlantis. So he’d splurged a little this season.

Ronon hauled out his package - something soft from the shape of it, and the way the object compressed as he set it in front of Teyla. Rodney’s gift was in a medium-sized box, tied with plain string, and it rattled a little as he put it down.

Teyla started with Rodney’s gift, unpicking the string and refusing away the knife Ronon offered when a knot gave her difficulty. “Patience.”

“Not one of his virtues,” Rodney commented. “God, Teyla, just cut it!”

“I have it,” she said with a note in her voice that John recognised as Teyla being stubborn. She might present herself as calm and patient, but even she had her limits. It had taken John months of working with her to realise that what he thought was her becoming more stubborn was actually her letting down her guard and not being quite so polite.

The string came undone, and the lid was pulled off and laid aside. John leaned over, trying to get a peek in the box. He saw a pack of tea-light candles, a long, thin box, and something that looked black and twisty beneath them. Teyla pushed at his shoulder, warning him to back off, and began lifting the things out of the box.

The thin box turned out to be incense sticks - John leaned over, ignoring the look she gave him, and read the scent name on the lid: _ylang ylang_.

Teyla smiled over at Rodney. “You _do_ listen.”

Even knowing she was joking, Rodney scowled. “Well, of _course_ I listen - when it’s worth listening to!” He paused as she took one of the sticks out and ran it under her nose. “I know they’re not your usual scents, but I thought about it and I asked Elizabeth and she suggested the incense sticks.”

John took the stick from her and waved it under his nose. It seemed...woody, with a touch of floral. Kind of earthy and sensuous, but not in a showy kind of way. Perfect for Teyla.

A bag of tea-light candles was laid in the box lid, and an intricately carved candleholder followed. Teyla turned it over in her hands while Ronon whistled. “Where’d you get that?”

“Earth,” Rodney said. “It’s ebony.”

John eyed it. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Oh, hello! Endangered,” said Rodney with a roll of his eyes. “You can get it, it’s just...difficult.”

“What are the carvings?”

“Oh, fish, birds, flowers - that kind of thing. I don’t know the names of it - you might like to ask Dr. Brown about that.”

Teyla nodded. “I shall.” Then she smiled at Rodney - the really brilliant one that could turn a man into a stammering pile of jelly in a second. “Thank you.”

“Yes, well...” Rodney looked uncomfortable and shrugged. “It wasn’t any trouble.”

John snorted quietly to himself as he returned the stick of incense to the box. Rodney was Rodney and he would never change. Which made it just as well that his team liked him as he was.

Ronon took the carving and studied it as Teyla unwrapped his present - what looked like a hand-sewn quilt in the rich earth-tones that was the staple of Athosian textiles, and two cushions to match.

“Elvarin said you admired Irienahi’s work on Meggiden,” he said with a shrug.

John helped her pull the quilt fully open. Beneath his fingers, the material was incredibly soft and dense; he had to resist the urge to rub his cheek against it. “Don’t know much about quilting, but isn’t this...pretty intricate?”

“It is one of her most difficult designs,” Teyla said, her fingers moving across the material with tactile pleasure, almost wondering at the nap and weave of the cloth. “These are expensive.”

“Obviously not too expensive for Ronon,” John muttered, earning him a frown from Rodney. He watched as Teyla rolled the quilt back up and placed it back in the paper. “Now, mine.”

Teyla rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she peeled the wrapping off the box. She stared at the black and silver packaging for one stunned moment, and then laughed as she turned to him. “Did I seem so obsessed with Lieutenant Lin’s adventure game?”

“The one that you spent most of an afternoon trying to play?” Ronon asked. “Yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed, and John interrupted with an explanation. “I just figured that it was something with which you could...relax. Put your feet up. Have a bit of fun.” He took the box from her and turned it around to show her the back, “Plus, it’s got options for things like playing music and DVDs and...Earth stuff. Like that music Sergeant Lewis gave you.”

The expression on her face made him think he was talking too much. Or that he should have gotten her something else - like a new set of staves or something _active._ Then her lips twitched, teasingly. “Thank you, John. I promise not to skip mealtimes in order to play.”

The second parcel contained the controllers - two of them - and two games. One was a variant of the adventure game she’d spent learning that afternoon, the other a racing game she’d played against John - she wasn’t bad for a beginner.

“So is the gift for Teyla or for you?” Rodney asked John pointedly.

John eyed Teyla as she worked to keep a broad smile off her face. “I’m sure she’ll let me play with it sometimes.”

“No,” she said. “It is mine - all mine!”

“Not even if I ask nicely?”

Her mock-suspicion relented enough to manage a small smile. “Perhaps. I shall think about it.”

John grinned. She knew, she understood, and she didn’t mind. It was okay.

“All right, who’s next?” Rodney asked, clearly hoping to have his turn next.

“Sheppard,” said Ronon firmly. And he pulled out a wooden box with a red ribbon tied around it and handed it to Teyla, who laid it in front of John before drawing out her own gift for him.

John turned the box over, noting the lacquered inlays that shone in shades of wood unknown to Earth, and the leather strap-hinges on the side. Pegasus craftsmanship - and the good kind. “Did you make this?” He asked Ronon.

“Not the box.”

He arched an eyebrow, but pulled off the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, in several wooden trays, rows of game pieces lay in hollows lined with a felt-like material - hours of work. John picked one out and held it up to the light, studying the face and armour of the figure before glancing at Ronon. “When did you do this?”

“New Athos.” Ronon shrugged. “I had time. It’s a Pegasus strategy - one of Teyla’s people taught it to me.”

John pulled out the trays - one carved in a reddish wood, the other carved in a bluish wood, each little figure carved by Ronon’s hand. Beneath them, there was a fold-up board - leather-hinged again. One side had the traditional squares of a chessboard in the two colours of wood; the other had a more intricate design with wire inlays running through the wood and delicate runes in Satedan shorthand.

John ran his fingers over the inlays and glanced up at an expression that was about as close to ‘anxious’ as Ronon got - stoically blank. “So you’re going to teach me to play this Pegasus strategy game?”

The stoic expression twitched around the mouth. “Yeah.”

“Excuse me? This is John ‘I always lose at chess’ Sheppard? You’re going to teach him _another_ game he can lose at?”

“Oh, gee, Rodney. _Thanks_.”

“It’s not the same,” said Ronon with a glance at Rodney. “Different mentality. Teyla knows.”

“ _Ghalrent_ is a different game to chess,” she agreed, folding her hands in her lap. “It is more...direct, less to hide. You may find it more suited to your style of playing.”

John wasn’t entirely convinced, but he’d give it a go. Besides, Ronon had made the board and the pieces with own hands; and the set was pretty. “Good work with the carving,” he said as he set the piece back in it’s felt-lined hollow.

“Thanks.”

John suspected that Ronon’s gift had been about giving ‘something different’ as much as his gift to Teyla had been - unusual, but not out of their line of interest. “What’s next?”

“Uh, Teyla’s present first,” Rodney said. He seemed to be fiddling with something behind the lid of the box he’d brought out for John’s present, frowning to himself. John craned his neck, to which Rodney responded by drawing away. “Hey, no peeking!”

Teyla handed him a soft package wrapped in a length of Athosian material. It was tied with the same string Rodney had used, but Teyla had tied it in a bow rather than a knot.

When he opened the package, green-and-brown stripes stared up at him, and John pulled out the light coat with some surprise.

“Hey, that’s like Teyla’s thingy,” Rodney said from behind.

“Thingy?”

“It was Jinto’s suggestion. He claimed I wear your clothing so much, it is only fair that you should wear ours from time to time.”

“So are you encouraging us to go native, now? I’m just asking, because if you got anything like that for me, I’m not going to wear it.”

John put the longboat down on the mat beside him, bundling it up. “It’s a _gift_ , Rodney.”

“Yeah, but unlike you, I have _dignity_.”

Teyla got in before John could make a retort. “Your gift is not like that, Rodney. You need not fear.”

“I’m not afraid! That kind of clothing’s just...not my thing.”

John tried to imagine Rodney in the coat and grinned to himself as he pulled out the other items in the package - a pair of brown trousers in the textured Athosian weave, and a vest that looked similar to something Ronon would wear.

John held it up, pointing at the laces that bound up the chest, starting from around the base of his breastbone. “You expect me to wear this?”

“Nothing shows,” Ronon pointed out, tapping his own chest. “See?”

In John’s view, it was the principle of the thing. Besides, Ronon would have gone stark naked without giving it a second thought. The man had no shame - not that he needed any with a body like his.

“It will look good on you, John.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but Teyla seemed to believe it. And the gift was...thoughtful.

The older Athosians would never look on him as anything other than the man who’d taken Teyla away from them - even if she was fighting the Wraith; the younger ones didn’t see him often enough to feel comfortable with the hero Jinto had painted him as. Either way, he was tolerated, but not accepted like Ronon.

He’d gotten over it. Teyla accepted him, even if her people sometimes resented her absence. Her present said it was enough for him to be where he was at; to belong to her the way she belonged to him and the team, outside of what would have been their usual circles of interaction.

That was enough for John.

“All right, then,” Rodney finished whatever he’d been doing on John’s present - some kind of programming? put it back in the box, closed up the box, and handed it to John. “Merry Christmas. Or Happy Holidays. Whichever you prefer.”

His curiosity was thoroughly piqued, but he turned the box over and over, studying the outside just to annoy Rodney, who was clearly very proud of himself for coming up with this present.

“Are you going to open it?” Ronon growled.

It was a PDA. More specifically, it was John’s PDA - right down to the scratches that marked the base where he’d dropped it off the table one day while at lunch. “You’re giving me my PDA?”

“Turn it on.” Rodney was nearly bouncing with excitement. He had the Grin of Rodney McKay, Technological Genius, on his face. “And go into Games.”

John pulled out the stylus and got into the games folder. “Yeah?”

“Pick a game. A quick one - Minesweeper at beginner’s level.” A kid looking at a mountain of presents on Christmas Day couldn’t have been any more excited than Rodney at this moment. “Play it all the way through to the end.”

He picked out the mines, one by one, getting the whole puzzle done in about twenty seconds. “Done.” He glanced up at Rodney, questioningly.

“Look at the screen!”

John glanced down. A naked woman was sashaying across the screen in a pair of high heels and black stockings and...Wow. She was blonde and buxom with legs up to her armpits, a sexy walk, and a sexy smile as she glanced out of the screen at John and sauntered off.

 _Whoa._

“It’s a hack code,” Rodney explained. “I traded some stuff with one of the techs who could write this macro - I probably could have done it myself, but I didn’t have the time. Anyway, whenever you successfully finish one of those games, you’ll get her - or one of the others - on your screen. You can turn it off if you like - it’s in the game options. And there are other options if you prefer certain types of...uhh...display. You know...?”

John did.

However, he couldn’t ask about them, because Teyla was regarding him with a very speculative look. The kind that usually meant John was going to get his ass kicked.

“Right. Thanks, Rodney. Good work.” John flashed a quick smile that did nothing to dispel Teyla’s expression. Across from him, Ronon was either in on the joke or had worked it out, he was grinning broadly. “Your turn, Ronon.”

“What about me?”

“You’re last,” John said.

“Why?”

“Because we love you most, so your present is special and we’re leaving it to the end.”

Ronon’s dreads swung out in a wave of laughter as Rodney rolled his eyes. But he got Ronon’s present out - a long, broad, flat parcel, very flat.

Unlike Teyla, Ronon wasn’t a patient unwrapper. He just ripped off the paper, yanked off the top of the box, and grinned like a demon at what was inside.

John’s first thought was that the knife was _big_. Silver blade, dark silver grip with a rubber looking centre. It had a double-blade, split by a gap of about a quarter-inch and some very wicked-looking curves and recurves on it. Picked out of the box, and with Ronon grinning away behind the flashing metal curves, the knife looked downright deadly as he stood up and began testing its weight and reach.

“Perhaps I should not ask what he plans to use it on,” Teyla said wryly. “From Earth?”

“It’s a collector’s knife,” Rodney protested. “Most people hang them on their walls.”

John exchanged a look with Teyla as Ronon made another pass in the air over by the door, the ebullient bounce of his steps as joyous as a full-bellied laugh.

“Rodney, this is _Ronon_ ,” John said with careful enunciation.

“He’s not supposed to actually _use_ it on anything!”

Teyla leaned forward a little. “Rodney, this is _Ronon_.”

Ronon flipped the knife around his fingers in a whirl of silver, then seated himself back down. “You remembered.”

“Well, of _course_ I remembered! You went on about it for long enough. I had to sit and listen to you going on and on and on...” Rodney trailed off as Teyla arched an eyebrow at him. “He talked more than he usually does,” he said defensively. “And don’t kill anyone with it. Unless they’re trying to kill me, of course.”

“What’s next?” Ronon picked up Teyla’s gift. “Another knife?”

“You acquire your own without any help from me,” she said as he tore off the wrapping and pulled out something that looked like a knife at first glance, but was too thick and blunt to be one. “But sharpening them...”

This grin wasn’t quite as gleeful now but there was more to it, not just the boyish enthusiasm, but also a more mature acknowledgement. “Thanks, Teyla.”

John held out a hand for the whetstone - a slim, surprisingly light length of metal, obviously acquired from Earth. Teyla had probably done some catalogue shopping, although exactly how she’d paid for it was a mystery. When he handed it back, Ronon laid it back in the box, then leaned over and kissed Teyla on the cheek.

She just laughed, but John felt his eyebrows rise, and Rodney looked a little put out. But when Ronon caught his expression and leaned over, Rodney made a face and pushed him away with a look that John couldn’t interpret. “Oh, go on and look at Sheppard’s present.”

John hadn’t bothered wrapping Ronon’s present, figuring that it would be too bulky to carry that way. Instead, he’d just left it in the bag Lorne had brought to him.

Ronon pulled out the coat and stared at it, turning it around to study, front and back, before he dropped it in his lap, large hands resting lightly on the grain of the leather.

He turned to John. “ _You_ stole my coat?”

“Teyla helped,” John said, and weathered Teyla’s exasperated glare at him. “The leatherworker needed a pattern to work from, and that was the only pattern we had.”

It hadn’t been easy to get made. For starters, there was the problem that Ronon didn’t own a lot of clothing, so stealing any of his items meant that they didn’t have a replacement for it. Then there was the problem of travelling time - it had taken several weeks for the coat to get from Atlantis to Earth, and the cost of the coat...

“This is from both of you?”

“From John and the marines,” Teyla said. “I merely helped.”

“You can count it from her, too,” said John. Without Teyla’s suggestions and assistance, he’d never have gotten the coat made in the first place. “It’s deerhide, full-grain, should last when your other one falls apart.” It had cost a fortune, but after several years in Atlantis, John had quite a little nest egg tucked away.

Ronon snorted. “I would have gotten one made in Pegasus.”

“See, now you don’t have to.”

“Yeah.” Ronon ran his hands across the leather. “Thanks.”

John nodded. There was more in there than thanks for the coat, but they weren’t going to talk about it.

“So,” Rodney said, with a casualness that fooled nobody. “Do I get my presents?”

John exchanged looks with Teyla and Ronon. “I think we can give him his present.”

Alarm spread across Rodney’s face. “I only get one?”

“It is one present that is in three parts,” Teyla said. “And each part is from all of us.”

“With a little help from Jeannie.” It had been John who ended up contacting Jeannie about ‘the Rodney Christmas project’, although Teyla had again been the one to suggest the present.

Rodney opened it carefully, and pulled out the frames - nutwood from New Athos, designed by Teyla, carved by Ronon, and with the photos already set inside, glossy and vivid.

The first was a double-frame, leather-hinged so it could fold out, with a two-toned wood frame. Long, bulbous fruits in honey colours swelled out from the coiling masses of vines in greenish-tinted wood. “ _Fahiyad_ ,” Teyla explained. “We associate it with memory, age, and childhood.” The photo on the right was Jeannie and Madison grinning into the camera, with the same kind of _joie de vivre_ that could sometimes be seen on Rodney’s face when he was excited about some development or project. Definitely a family resemblance.

On the left, a grainier photo resided, of a little boy with dark-blonde hair hugging his blonde sister. While he was smiling, there was just a hint of the cynical in the boy’s smile, a shadow of the man he’d be.

“Oh, she didn’t,” Rodney said. “Couldn’t you have found something else to put in there?”

“Apparently, she didn’t have too many photos of you around.”

“Then she couldn’t have picked something else? Another one of Madison, maybe?” Rodney sighed, aggrieved, and put the photo frame down. “What other horrors has she perpetrated on me?”

Teyla leaned back, planting her hands on the mat behind her with indulgent amusement. “Perhaps you should look and find out.”

The second photo frame featured Atlantis - taken at sunset, when a high-atmosphere wind had sectioned off the sky into little rows of coloured sheep - purple and pink and orange and white. The frame design was the straight lines and crisp angles of the city’s architecture in a bluish wood - probably the same wood that Ronon had used for John’s board pieces.

“Nice,” Rodney commented. “Who took the photo?”

“Sergeant Winchester loaned me her camera,” Teyla offered. “This photo was taken by me, but she has many other shots of that evening. Many are nicer--”

“We wanted something that was from us,” John said, before Teyla could run down her photographic ability. So it wasn’t professional standard - that wasn’t the point. It was pretty and it fit into the photo frame. “And the photo’s fine. Isn’t it?”

And if Rodney didn’t have the sense to say, _Yes, it’s beautiful_ , then John was going to smack him over the head. Possibly with one of Teyla’s staves.

“Yes, well, not bad.” Rodney studied it. “I suppose. Actually, the composition of the photo is quite dramatic, but I wouldn’t have put so much of the sky--”

“ _Rodney_.” John shot a despairing look at Teyla, who was still smiling. She shook her head at him, apparently unbothered by Rodney’s dismissal of her photographic skills.

John wished it bothered him less, but he let it go for the moment. He’d talk to Teyla about it later.

Rodney stared at the last picture frame with its corresponding photo for a long time.

He sat it on his legs and studied the photo, his hands tracing the frame with none of their usual restless energy. John, Ronon, and Teyla exchanged glances as the silence stretched out. Silence wasn’t Rodney.

“Well,” he said at last, with just a hint of hoarseness in his voice, “That was nice. I still think you could have found me a working ZPM if you’d really tried, but...thanks, anyway.”

John relaxed as Ronon sat up and grinned. “Group hug?”

“Oh, God, no, not again--”

“It’s Christmas,” John announced, feeling something close to relief at Rodney’s whine. Rodney had been a little too quiet for a moment there and he’d been worried. “I think we can risk it.”

“What? Risk having all the air squashed out of my-- Ronon! Don’t even think-- Watch out for my present!”

John grinned as Teyla rose to her feet, and pulled her into the hug, wrapping an arm around Rodney’s chest and squeezing them together.

It was always awkward to extract from a hug without seeming too eager to get away. John thought they managed it quite well as they stepped apart and he ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Merry Christmas, guys.”

"Oh yes,” Rodney sneered, apparently feeling the need to re-establish his distance in a more distinct way than John. “Merry Blah-Blah-Blah, bite me.”

One bushy eyebrow lifted. “Really?”

The flush raced over Rodney’s skin as he lookedat Ronon, like a star’s light going to redshift. “No.”

Teyla put her hands on her hips and laughed.

John shook his head.

His team.

 _Merry Christmas, John._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> John’s Athosian outfit idea ‘belongs’ to pentapus, who drew it [here](http://pentapus.livejournal.com/51549.html#cutid1).


End file.
